


a job well done

by ohhstark



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, as i haven't played awakening enough to know all of the new wardens' names, but this basically follows the "alistair becomes king with anora" ending for origins, implied Loghain/Cousland, kind of an AU, past Alistair/Cousland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhstark/pseuds/ohhstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she smiles and he smiles back, no one takes any notice. Or they just choose not to comment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a job well done

It is the way of things. Stark and realized as they were. Sometimes, she feels dead inside. But not nearly dead enough. Every word, every side-thrown glance is a tear in her armor. A tear to her very soul. It hurts just as much now as it did before. But she's grown the fake smile. She has grown the kindness and compassion to help her upset all that. 

She isn't a girl any longer. Sometimes it feels like she could be, like she wants to be. But it is just as fake as her pleasantries. She doesn't want the facade, but it's a cold comfort to her now. When she has nothing and no one to share it with. It wasn't supposed to be this way, not by any means. She was supposed to have the castle and the king and all the rest of it too, but what she's stuck with is a cold bed in a cold shack with a cold man who won't spare her even a second's glance. 

It wasn't supposed to be this way, but they make the most of it. They hunt for deer or stray cows or whatever they can find to cook over the fire. It's tough meat. Neither of them is a cook, neither pretends to be. It's something if not much. She hugs her stomach at night and watches and waits for the fire's breadth to widen. Waits to see Dog and Sten and Leliana. They never appear out of the darkness and if she cries from their absence, there is no one there who cares enough to look. 

She's counted nine moons before she knows it. She's exhausted and little better than she was when the end of the beginning began, but they've collected a few more companions at least. Lilith who is as much a girl as she could be. She's nosy and bossy, but knows how to cook. They finally have whole meals in their stomachs. Full stomachs make for sharper minds, and she needs all of those she can get. Brandon who loves animals and hates darkspawn because they killed his entire family. Gertrude who reminds her of Leliana and who smiles a little too widely and a little too much. She loves them all, in her own way. She only wonders if it's all worth it. She wonders what they are really doing out here in the middle of nowhere with no one to see their deeds but spare farmers and travelers. Then, looking across the field at that cold man sparring with one of their newest additions, she thinks maybe it'll all be okay. He's smiling, a rare thing and she wants to hold it to her chest. She wants to stroke that small flame to life. But a moment passes and he's back to being surly and unreasonable and spiteful as anything she's ever seen. In awe, she holds a finger to her lips and finds that she's smiling too. Maybe it can be enough for the both of them, sad and lost as they are. 

Five more moons pass. Their position has improved. The king has set them up at an old abandoned fortress. It takes more work than it's probably worth. But it starts to feel like home and they all take a collective sigh when it seems the work is almost done. They all have beds with fires set in every room. They have food on the table and wine in their cups. It's much more than she would have ever hoped for in the beginning. And when she looks across the room at her unwilling left hand, she thinks they may, finally, be on the same page. And in this light, if she smiles and he smiles back with one of those rare, gentle things she's grown so fond of, no one takes any notice. Or they just choose not to comment.


End file.
